Demonic Intervention
by Fauve-Alyara
Summary: When dark magic goes awry, no one can tell of the consequences, including the powerful King Galbatorix. But, will the power aid his twisted vision, or will it rise against him as an enemy even he can't kill? Read the legend and be lost to the magic of...


The woods were dark, the mountains cold, and the light from the moon strong through the high canopy. I stepped with inhuman grace, barely touching the ground before I was off again. My feet were encased in high heeled leather boots, made for mountain hiking and horseback riding, the black leather sticking close to my legs like a second skin. The heel was high, more than four inches, but I was used to it, having trained for most of my life.

The trees grew farther apart, eventually revealing a glen, where many deer lay sleeping, one doe apart from the rest, her foreleg propped awkwardly in front of her. She dozed lightly, while the buck stayed by her side. She was young, and lightly showing signs of carrying a fawn. It was unfortunate that she'd fallen after being chased by a mountain cat, before the cat was driven off by her mate. I'd watched this herd for two weeks, and they'd become accustomed to me in that time. I strode over, kneeling beside the young doe, laying her head in my lap to lull her into a deeper sleep. The buck snorted at me, nibbling my hair, before going to his own spot to sleep.

Hours passed before I moved, anticipating some type of magic by the prickling along the back of my neck. I pet the doe's side gently, leaving her asleep, and ambled over to the edge of the glen, stooping low in the underbrush. My pale gold hair blew with the wind, obscuring my vision and making me taste my own hair. Shaking my hair, I heard a bow draw, the sound loud in the silence but too quiet to wake the herd. Across the clearing, a young man stood with his bow drawn, his eyes intense, focussed on the young doe. I hissed, my fingers curving into claws, my nails hardening to form real claws, fangs sprouting from my mouth, my scent shifting to that of a predator, and I crouched, ready to defend the herd. But as I readied to lunge, the man released his arrow, and the glen exploded in magic fire.

The herd escaped, even the young doe, and the hunter's arrow lost to the night air. The glen vibrated with the aftershocks of so much magic, and I could only stare in wonder at the deep blue stone left in its wake. My appearance shifted again, leaving me human to the untrained eye. I took a step toward the stone, my eyes snapping up to the man, and then whirled away, dashing off into the mountains, my skirts barely slowing my pace. My travel breeches were enough protection, although my top was less than helpful… My luck to decide to just wear my corset and linen shirt when the night I had to run… My arms were scratched up and bleeding, raw from the branches whipping past me.

That had been too close for my comfort. I would have to move tomorrow, leave this area, else I would be discovered, and that would be bad, for everyone. I was a monster, never meant to exist, brought about by rape and dark magic, and I deserved no less than eternal exile from civilization, eternal loneliness, and to forever run from any form of companionship. My eyes narrowed as my fangs extended again, my claws gripping the bark of a tall tree as I fought for control. My head tingled, burning just enough to be annoying, and I knew.

I would have to hunt, to get rid of the instinct to take the life of the man who dared to come into my territory unannounced and unwelcomed. I took off, quicker than any animal in this forest, and followed the scent of prey. I decided when I saw my prey with my own eyes that I would not kill, but I would hunt, track, keep my mind off of the darkness brewing inside me, writhing within the tight cage of my control, beckoning me to do terrible things. My narrowed eyes took in everything there was to be seen, my vision tinged a deranged red, the colour of blood.

Quick footsteps broke out in my path, as a large mountain cat lunged from its hiding place, recoiling as I let loose a roar of anger, the flash fire across my skin as exhilarating as jumping off of a waterfall. The cat was faster than my top speed, but I knew its tricks. I took to the tree branches, stepping lightly as I rounded my path to go right before the cat, and jumped down onto its back. It was a male, from the spikes along its spine and on its shoulders, the longer fangs sticking out of its top jaw, and the larger size of the horns on its head. Unlike the large cats of most of the Empire, the Spinecats were dangerous, even to me. The only known person to bring down a Spinecat single-handedly had been an elf, centuries ago, and he'd died of his injuries a few weeks later. I, however, had hunted them for sport and meat many times during my stay in the Spine.

The beast reared up, thrashing its head, one of its horns catching me in the ribs, before running headlong through the tough underbrush. I used my legs to carefully keep me above its spines, as I did not feel like being speared through at that particular moment. The cat, as long and heavy as a horse, galloped down the game trails as if the devil were after its blood, throwing itself into any tree that got close enough, trying in vain to throw me from its back. It had already gashed my ribs, cracking one, but it wanted more. It wanted to taste my blood on its fangs as it tore into my bloody corpse, it wanted to gut me and watch me writhe as it ate me alive.

One well-placed arrow and its struggles would be over, my mind whispered as I looked down at the beast's neck. I shook my head. This time, I would leave my prey alive. This time, I would prove him wrong. I would prove that I could control myself, that I was not a monster. Or, that I was not too much of an aberration to be unable to live civilly. My claws tightened in the cat's fur, my fangs aching to taste its neck, to sever its spine and end the beast's life.

I threw myself from the cat, rolling as I landed to propel myself to my feet, ready for the cat's answering attack. It lunged with renewed speed, and I had only moments to roll under the cat, so it ran head first into a tree. A growling purr erupted from me, like laughter, as the cat sat before the tree, its head swaying as it tried to shake off the hit. My wings spread away from my back for the first time, and as the cat lunged at me again, I took to the air. I was not very far from the place of the scuffle when the cat lunged, gripping my legs and dragging me down.

My breeches were ripped, my legs seeping blood, and my eyes widened. The cat was atop me after only a moment, and my hands went to hold its neck and jowls away from my own as its claws raked my flesh. I tried to fold my wings, but they were too bunched up to fold neatly. The cat seemed to sense my weakness, and raked one of its paws down my left wing, tearing a bloodcurdling scream from my lungs. A few words escaped along with my screams, and the cat fell dead atop me, squishing my thin body with its weight. Tears escaped my eyes as I heaved the cat off of me, but not from the pain. My wings were already healing, the tears mending at a formidable pace, but sorrow welled up in me as I stared at the corpse of the cat, blood leaking from its eyes, ears, and mouth, the result of the dark magic to which I'd resorted.

My ears flattened against my head as a wail rose in my throat, a howl reverberating through the dead night, a long, pain-filled lonely sound, tore from my lungs by the pain coursing through my black heart. I truly was no better than a beast, a monster to be trapped and kept away from civilization, where terror would reign where ever I went. Father was right. He was right to send me away, to cast me from his sight like something icky stuck to the bottom of his boot. My fangs receded, my ears melted back to normal, my wings dissolved into my back, and I looked no more than a mortal, human girl.

I couldn't risk exposure because of the cat, so I buried him deep in the woods, praying that he had no cubs to look after, no mate. He was old and battle-scarred, so it was unlikely, but I tried not to dwell on it, for if I did, I would lose any semblance of sanity. Trudging my way through the mountains, I watched as the sun rose over the peaks, wondering what had happened to the young man from back in the glen. He seemed to be nothing more than a mere farm boy out hunting for meat to last the winter, but a strange power rested in him, clear in his deep brown eyes. As the sun blinded me for the first time that day, I felt a shift in the power of the forest. And I knew things were about to go to hell.


End file.
